I didn’t shoot him in the foot.
And he did get one.
So overall it was a successful weekend.
But damn was it windy.
We all got up Saturday morning at 5:30am.
Blearily stumbled about putting on layer after layer.
I myself wore one long sleeved undershirt.
One thick hunting jacket.
Two pairs of long johns.
Wool hunting pants with suspenders.
Two pairs of mittens.
And hunting boots.
Undewear is in there somewhere too.
Minnesota weather ain’t got nothin on me.
Me and the BF piled into my car and took off.
Drove a little ways down the road.
Parked and loaded our guns.
Took a walk towards the stand and climbed on in.
And so we sat.
We did see one but it was way too dark.
It was so dark that I was seeing those little white fuzzies that float in your eyes.
After that bout of excitement, we sat some more.
I was being blown this way and that.
Felt like a corn stalk trying despertely to keep itself planted upright.
And the wind wasn’t warm either.
And it made it damn hard to hear anything.
And to top it off…the BF looked yummy in his blaze orange.
I wanted to make-out the entire twelve hours we were out there.
It’s okay though.
I mauled him when we got home Sunday night. 😉
So we didn’t see squat Saturday.
He was a little disappointed.
Which was to be expected.
I was disappointed.
Which was to be expected.
I really wanted him to see something.
Didn’t even really car if he shot one or not.
Well we get back to the cabin and find out that my peckerhead of a brother had shot a 10 pointer.
It was his second deer of the day.
I swear that kid has a lucky horse shoe shoved up his ass.
And he wasn’t sharing it.
Well a deer that big…needs a lot of men to drag it out.
So off the men go to help.
I stayed behind and washed my hair.
It was all matty from being shoved in a hat all day.
Deer hunting takes any sexiness out of the equation.
I didn’t even wear makeup for three whole days.
Which is unheard of for me.
I look like a sick dog without makeup.
Everyone always asks me what’s wrong if I don’t wear it.
During deer hunting.
No one gives a flying flip.
So I figured I was off the hook.
Cept for my hair.
I like clean hair.
They come back.
We all ooo and ahhh at the rack.
Once they take out the hatchet to get at the butthole…
Did you know they make a device called The Butt Out?
It’s this little screw thing that you are supposed to shove up the deer butt twist it and pull out the guts through the butt hole.
Something seems a little wrong about that…
Hope the funeral homes don’t find out about them…
After everything is all cleaned up, we eat and start drinking.
I had two captain and cokes and was feeling very giggly.
And I wanted a rice crispie bar.
So I go to take one and here they are all individually wrapped in their own little baggy.
I get the “What the hell” look on my face and turn around.
My sister was sitting there and smiling her smile at me.
So I asked what the hell was with the baggies.
I guess MammaK baked two pans of rice crispies and then told my brother to “cut and bag em”.
Now unless your man is a regular betty crocker, men suck at cutting bars.
They are all mishapen and mismatched sizes.
And these were all shoved into little individual baggies.
For some reason this was the funniest thing ever.
And I started giggling.
Then my sister started giggling.
And pretty soon we are giggling and guffawing and hooting until we are gasping for breath and crying.
Everyone else is looking at us like we were snorting crack out in the outhouse…
And not sharing.
And this made me laugh even harder.
I’m surprised I didn’t give mysef a hernia.
After a few hours, we all meander off to bed.
Wake up at 5 and hear it pouring outside.
Well not much to do about that.
So we go back to sleep until 9 till it finally stopped.
I ask the BF if he wants to go out for a few hours.
We were going to try and leave by 2.
He says yes.
He really wants to see one.
So we get all of our layers back on and waddle out the door.
Drive to a different stand and get out to make the long walk.
Brother dearest tags along too.
A little ways away from the stand, the BF jumps two beautiful big does.
The BF isn’t exactly used to swinging his gun up quick like and shooting.
Those two got away.
So we sit again.
Blowin in the wind.
And I still want to shove my tongue down his throat.
I had it bad.
He got restless and wanted to give walking a go.
So off he goes.
I sit there and contemplate shooting this stupid annoying squirrel that kept making rustling noises.
The BF comes back around after 20 minutes.
It’s 11:45 and we decide to leave.
A few feet from the cabin we see one.
It is there standing on the side of the road.
The BF gets out of the truck really slowly and goes to the back to load his gun.
He creeps around the side of the truck and slowwwllly raises his gun.
The deer has had enough.
And takes off.
Brother dearest has me turn the truck around and park it.
We load our guns and take off down the path the deer ran into.
A few feet in.
Between a shit ton of pines.
Brother dearest spots it standing there stock still.
How he saw it will forever be beyond me.
It took me several minutes to spot it.
The BF a few minutes more.
The whole time we are jostling around and whispering and the dumb thing just stands there watching us.
So the BF kneels down.
Tries to find it through his scope.
Tries a few more times.
And finally has it.
Takes a breath..
Squeezes the trigger…
Idiot forgot to take off his safety.
By now the deer is getting antsy.
It swings it’s head around to run..
Drops it right there.
Brother dearest is slapping the BF on the back and grinning.
The BF is smiling.
I get down.
Lay on the ground.